Bumping Into My Neighbor's Wife....over and o

I’ve lived in this second story apartment for three months now and finally have it furnished comfortably: big screen TV, Wi-Fi, couple of big leather recliners for football games. In one corner, I even have a little bar that I bought at an estate auction. Art of my own choice hangs on the walls—ex-wife be-damned.

And, since I do a lot of work from home, as this apartment is a one bedroom, one bath with a study, I also have a nice work space with desktop and laptop computers, little TV for the news and a window view of the lazy residential street called Hallmark Lane.

All in all, it’s a fairly quiet complex—only thirty units, very few k**s, mostly single tenants like me—or couples like Sally and Dutch. They live three doors down.

It’s a Tuesday morning, and I needed to re-provision my apartment after a weekend of partying. While lugging two arm loads of groceries I make the way from my car to the stairs leading up to the place I call home. As I do so, my mind wonders to Sally—more specifically, to Sally’s titties, ass and let me mention that tongue of hers. Yes, in addition to having a dick hardening body when she is naked, Sally is very gifted in the area of giving a man pleasure with her tongue and lips.

I began fucking Sally, let’s see, about a month and a half ago. Yes, been getting after that dream MILF body of hers on average a couple times a week—yes, I’ve been enjoying a hooter humping, pussy pumping, butt banging time of it with her. While adjusting my two grocery bags, trying to adjust my rock hard cock in my jeans, I think that being divorced and back on the singles scene isn’t all that bad.

Sally—she is leaving work early today—at lunch time. She texted to me her usual breathtaking, cock stirring code: INC. Which is an acronym as you might have already deciphered standing for “I need cock,” to wit I had replied “I have one right here handy” and then I had added INP.

A minute later she had replied, “I have one of those right here handy too. Lol. 1pm today?”

Well, as you might imagine I’ve been in a state of arousal all morning. About an hour ago, I had also received a text from Dutch, Sally’s husband. “Getting together at 1pm?” I had sent to him a “thumbs up” sign. Yes, I really enjoy fucking Sally, but my only concern is what will happen to all the video recordings that Dutch has made of all the bucking and fucking that I do with Sally.

Now, Dutch doesn’t always record our sessions—sometimes he just sits back and jerks off while watching me bang his wife. And, admittedly, sometimes I sit back, jack off and sip some nice booze and watch while he fucks his wife. On occasion, I’ve manned the camera and played porn movie director. Yes, crazy times here at the Hallmark Court Apartments.

As I pop open a beer, and begin putting away my groceries, I ponder the cuckold fetish. With the exception of a crazy weekend of foursome sex in Cabo San Lucas years and years ago, long before I met Donna and got married, I have never shared a woman with another man—well, not intentionally or consciously at any rate. A dark thought about my ex-wife crosses my mind.

I sit down at my workstation and take a sip or two of my beer. I return some e-mails and briefly add finishing touches to a proposal I have to hand over to a prospective client by week’s end. But, well, fuck it—I can’t resist the temptation. I find the video file. I open up the first clip of Sally that Dutch showed me several weeks ago that, in reality, got this whole sex thing going.

On this particular clip, I scroll forward to where Sally is shaking her titties at the camera, both Dutch and she are laughing and here I am, getting hard to the sight—rubbing my cock through my jeans. I think to myself, trying to recall how many times since we started this wild sex ride that I’ve spewed my spunk onto Sally’s large lovelies, her ass, her face, her tummy, oh yeah, and inside her pussy—most of those cum shots made to the approving urgings, yelps and whoops, of her husband.

All in all, this particular clip is fairly tame—no pussy shot, her ass looks good as she is wearing a red thong. She sports a nice tattoo on her right ass cheek: two cavorting fairies. Sally bends over while facing the camera and I moan at the sight of those oh so pretty titties shaking and wobbling around. Sitting here, I can’t stop myself. I drop my pants and start to jack to her—thinking that in just a couple hours I’ll have those fabulous looking fun bags in my lap, on my face, hugging my dick.

A couple of months ago I had Sally for the first time. Yes, I had bumped into her, literally, at the rank of mail boxes lining the interior walkway that bisected the complex. As usual, I was on my cellphone as I peered into my box, pulling out bills. I backed up without looking and there she was.

After making my apologies, I know I made a fool of myself. I stood there, staring. Sally is, you see, what we call a sweater girl. A mature woman, my guess is a little older than me—but a well preserved, well-tended to woman. That day she was sporting a snug cotton sweater top that accentuated the rounded mounds of what appeared to be sizeable breasts. Her hip hugging pants completed the ensemble and displayed what I would note as a healthy looking ass, a broad, inviting bottom.

I explained I had just moved in to the outside corner unit. Sally replied that her and—to my dismay at the time—husband Dutch lived three doors down. We said our goodbyes although I lingered long enough to watch her ascend the stairs to her apartment. Fuck! What an ass.

As so often happens in apartment living, I didn’t her again for several days. The next time, Sally and Dutch were getting out of their car as I was getting into mine. We all shook hands—the encounter lasted less than two minutes.

Now, as I stroke my dick in anticipation to getting after her again, I think back to how my regular romping with Sally all began, a few weeks after that chance encounter at the mailboxes.

It had been a gray, heavily overcast day, leaden sky, with a cool breeze coming through the open balcony door. A steady drizzle had fallen for hours—traffic reports told of snarls on three of the major thoroughfares of our fair city. I was happy to be home, working, but home nevertheless, making phone calls, e-mailing and so on. I had looked out my window and a pickup truck parking with an audible squeak of brakes, easing up next to the curb.

And, on the day when what I call the “sex ride” began there was Dutch, downstairs, climbing out of his work truck, just outside my window. He owns a remodeling company and I would learn later that his big project at the time was a patio and pool enclosure out in the suburbs. That day, he and his crew bad been rained out. It was about 10:30 in the morning.

By a strange trick of light, he was able to see me in the window. He waved and then disappeared down the walkway. A half hour later, there was a knock on my door. It was Dutch, clutching a six pack of craft beer.

“Hey, my job was rained out and it occurred to me that you haven’t been properly welcomed into the neighborhood.”

For the next thirty minutes or so, we sat out on the balcony, listening to the rain, drinking beer, talking about our respective jobs and so on. I couldn’t help but feeling there was some kind of a dance going on here. Dutch had been very curious about my personal life—girlfriends, tastes in women, where I liked to go clubbing, what bars were on my favorite list.

At one point, I said to myself fuck it, my work day was over. I had gone inside, and brought out two fresh beers, a bottle of Maker’s Mark bourbon and two small tumblers. We went silent for several minutes, feeling a little buzz, enjoying the momentary remove from responsibility.

“So, Dean,” he had leaned forward, “You a boob man? Or, are you an ass man?”

I guess it was the booze and the relaxed shroud of rainy day shadows and coolness that had lulled me into a state of lax reserve, but I wasn’t really taken aback by the question—just two guys drinking and talking about tits and ass.

“Well, I’m a titman, Dutch. But, uh, as I often say while I believe not all ass men are titmen, I do believe that all titmen ARE ass men.”

He had sat back and appeared to ponder this response, then, began to fish through his pockets for a cell phone, “Good answer man. Say, I want to show you something. What’s your e-mail address?”

When I hesitated, he had continued, “It’s a short video clip, doesn’t show up that well on my phone. It’s of my wife’s tits. Want to see them?”

I did recall the tight sweater Sally was wearing that day when I first met her. So I readily agreed, yep, I did want to see those titties.

And, a few minutes later, after Dutch had punched a few buttons on his cell, I had downloaded the video onto a thumb drive and we begin watching Sally. In the opening minutes, she was wearing a tight, form fitting cotton top that buttoned up the front—she was showing some nice cleavage. In that clip Sally was a MILF vision. Tight jean shorts. I had hit the pause button--”Hold on.”

I had taken my laptop to the living room area and hooked it up to my big screen. Dutch had grabbed beers for us and came in to join me, plopping down in one of the leather recliners, “Oh yeah, Sally’s titties on the big screen.”

Well, as I mentioned, it was—is—a fairly tame cock tease clip. In the clip, she does this slow strip down, unbuttoning the cotton blouse to reveal her beauties bunched up in a tiny bra. Turning her back to the camera, Sally peeled off those shorts and her ass seemed to balloon out a bit as it was freed from the restraint of denim. I had to smile at a tattoo of what appeared to be two fairies on her right ass cheek—the thought immediately shot through my fevered mind. “Yep, I’d like to try and white out that tat with a good load of cum.”

She turned back to the camera and turned those titties loose and I remember emitting an audible groan as they bobbled free in a lush titty tumble.

Those titties, those titties, oh those pretty titties were—are--so fine looking. And, as I have also mentioned, the red thong covered up her pussy, but not the dick hardening few seconds when she turned around again and put her ass on display once more. Yes, it was—hell, still is--great jack off material.

I couldn’t resist, I replayed that clip a couple times and then Dutch and I started our running commentary and I began to replay it over and over and over.

Me—“Hot damn that’s a fine looking set of pretty titties.”

Dutch—“Yep, and she fucking knows how to use them on a man let me fucking tell you.”

Me—“Oh shit! Look at that gorgeous ass!!! Damn, Dutch, how do you leave the house in the morning with that ass and those tits to play with?”

Dutch—“Well, I get after that pretty often, Dean. And, I got to tell you, she knows how to get a load out of a man like no other woman I’ve ever been with.”

Me—“Oh fuck.”

Dutch—“Yes indeed. Even after all the fucking she’s done, that pussy still feels like a snug silk-velvet glove. I love pumping that thing.”

Me—“Oh fuck.”

Yes, I have to admit. With the booze, the sight of Sally shaking her tits, wagging her ass, laughing and obviously enjoying the camera, I was a bit stupid with lust.

Well, we kept up the banter for a while, and then, at some point, I still don’t remember how this happened but we got busy jacking off I do remember looking at the bottle of Maker’s Mark and marveling at how it was only half full—hadn’t that been a brand new bottle? And then I recall looking down and seeing my dick in my hand. I looked over and Dutch had his dick in his hand.

What the hell?

Then, we both were looking very intently at Sally’s ass waving and wagging at us. Dutch looked over at me and grinned, “You should feel that ass in your hands my friend. She loves it when I take my cock and spank her with it right before I slip inside her puss and give her a good going.”

To say I was a bit embarrassed is an understatement—I hadn’t sat around with a guy or guys jacking off since middle school. But, there it was—that ass. Yes, I kept jacking. So did Dutch.

At some point, somehow, Dutch had taken control of the remote and he paused at a frame where Sally is lifting up her titties, pressing them together.

“Tell me Dean,” here his breath was a little raspy, strained, “What the fuck would you do with my wife’s titties right there?”

And I told him, “First, I’d get a face full of titty, suck on those nipples, kiss ‘em and lick ‘em. Then, I’d have some fun using my dick. Rubbing over them, tapping them and then diving in for some good titty fucking.”

A moment or two later, he asked the same question about Sally’s ass.

“Oh fuck, I’d fucking wear that out.” By this point I was really worked up and close to cuming.

“Dean, would you? Would you ram my wife’s ass good? Would you make my wife grunt and groan?”

“Oh fuck yes! I’d take that ass, oh that fucking ass and I’d piston fuck that pussy. I’d fucking ruin her for you!”

“Yeah, you’d bang her—oh fuck, watch this!” In the clip, Sally commences to wag her ass at the camera. We sit there a few moments, transfixed.

And then, Dutch had climaxed. So did I.

A few minutes later—after a toweling down, he and I had returned to the balcony. Frankly, I was so embarrassed by what had just occurred I had trouble looking at Dutch. We sipped some whiskey and I finally had to ask, “What the fuck was that all about?”

He had laughed—apparently not disconcerted at all, “That my friend was an audition.”
Aghast and confused I asked, “What?”

He had ignored my question and asked me, “What are you doing Saturday afternoon?”

That’s how it all began. Six weeks ago.

Now, I sit here jacking to that very clip. Then, I switch to another one—this one dated last week. I am seated in a chair in their living room, naked of course. Dutch has his small video camera over my right shoulder aimed at my lap where Sally is kneeling down before me, sucking on my cock.

She had just given me a great round of titty fucking—both tits were glistening with baby oil. Sally had taken a towel to my dick and then gone down on me—sucking, licking my shaft, licking my balls, back to sucking, then back to the licking, back to the sucking in a delicious rhythm.

Dutch asks, “How’s she doin’ Dean? That feel good?”

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” and all I can manage is to mumble, “Wunnerful, wunnerful.”

In this clip—as I recall, this was my second go at Sally that morning. This second time had been a round robin of fucking, me licking her, her sucking me, me taking her from behind, then to cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, missionary and finally her back to sucking my dick—Dutch recording it all.

He had generally been quiet this time, letting us get it on at our own pace, only occasionally urging me on, his own cock erect and wobbling about stiffly as he moved near us, around us, adjusting the camera angle, “Oh yes, get after that ass Dean. Oh, get you some titty.” And so on.

Then, to his wife, “You like that dick in there baby? He doin’ you good baby? Tell me about it—how’s that fucking going baby?”

“Oh Dutch, oh fuck—he’s fucking your wife soooo good. Oh damn that’s good dick.”

Now, sitting here in my little office space, watching her suck my cock on the laptop screen I pause in my jacking to regain some control. In the clip, I am now gasping, “Oh fuck, look at what your wife is doing to my fucking cock! Fuck! Damn what a tongue! Shit, that’s good, oh shit that’s perfect, oh I can’t hold it any longer.”

“Yeah,” Dutch barks out, “Yeah, unload on those titties!” And for a moment or two there is camera chaos but then, suddenly, I am standing at a slight crouch while Sally is standing up on her knees, offering up those tits for my viewing, ready for my spunk.

“Yes, Dean, honey, how I love watching you shoot it all out,” Sally says, jiggling her jugs, “Give me that big load. Show Dutch again what a man you are.”

I have to admit, when calm Dutch is good with the camera. The cum shot is truly of porn movie quality. Two thick, milk white threads rocket out of my cock and Sally yelps with glee and I jack out blobs and gobs of man juice onto her lovely breasts—and Dutch captures it all with easy, smooth zooming in and zooming out with the camera. I take my cock and smear the mess around, glazing those titties.

The scene closes with Dutch saying, “Fuck yeah.” And Sally, she is looking up at me, “Good boy.”

At my desk, I close down the laptop, resisting the temptation to resume jacking. I stand. I sip some more of my beer and think about this situation. I know eventually playtime will come to an end—pardon the pun. They’ll find another new playmate. As for me, this last month I’ve found a bed buddy—Chrissie--whom I really like to fuck. And, there is another woman—Helen--whom I just started fucking last weekend as well—as she is married, Helen will probably be a little less available than Chrissie—but the point is I am not short on access to big titties and willing pussy.

But for right now, this is just great fun.

As I hit the shower to ready myself for the afternoon ahead, my mind goes to another occasion, I replay another scene in my head to a couple weeks into our regular rendezvous. Sally, Dutch and I had been sitting on their balcony, all three of us naked, resting between fucks and sipping our drinks.

Dutch, you see, has configured some canvas dr****g around the railing so we can fuck on the balcony during the day. At this point in the mid-afternoon, Dutch had just fucked his wife—I had held the camera as he did her doggie style. Yes, I had gotten in some good footage of her swinging titties and quaking ass and Dutch’s cum shot across her randy rump.

Sally had just come back out to join us from cleaning herself up in the bathroom. She sat down beside me on the swing and while sipping her Scotch and soda, reached over and began to stroke my dick.

They explained that counting me they have had four male playmates since starting inviting guys in three years ago.

“The previous three were really nice guys, nice bodies,” Sally explained.

“Yes,” Dutch added, “But they didn’t have near the staying power you have, dude.”

“Nor, the quick rebound ability baby,” Sally had added, while looking down at my cock, at her hand action.

Dutch had laughed and picked up the camera as he noticed my dick getting hard. Sally had laughed, “We get videos of twice the fucking with you around Dean. “

Dutch had added, “You’re like two dudes in one and my wife really likes getting fucked by you.”

I climb out of the shower, rock hard and ready.

I am standing on the balcony at 1:30 or so when my cell phone rings. It’s Dutch. At first, I feel a little increase in my heartbeat. I am, admittedly, fearful they are going to cancel.

“Hey, Dean old buddy. Just got home. Want to pop on over? I have some cold ones iced down and since I drank all your bourbon last time, got a fresh bottle of Maker’s for you.”

They know the booze takes away my inhibitions—as long as I don’t overdo it, it helps with my fucking in front of a camera.

I make my way over, relieved that I am going to get to fuck Sally again and again and, well, again. The pattern has been that when we get together during a weekday afternoon the humping and pumping goes well into the evening.

Their apartment is nicely appointed, with an obvious feminine touch. They’ve discussed buying a house soon—another reason why I believe all this fun might be ending soon. But Dutch, with his usual hospitality, hands me a beer as soon as I walk in.

There is some porn on the big screen in the living room—big bodied Charlie Cooper is getting it put to her from behind, doggie style. Her plump titties flop and hop and swing and sway.

“Sally is on her way,” Dutch explains, “Pussy all wet no doubt. Good thing her car has vinyl seats is all I can say.”

I have to laugh. Damn, what a crazy couple.

I notice that Dutch is, as usual, well prepared. He owns three cameras and has become quite adept at using his computer for editing. There is a camera on a stand in the living room and, if the pattern maintains, a second one is in the bedroom. The third one is for his hand held shots.

Dutch is wearing gym trunks, sans shirt, and I suspect he has been jerking to porn. The clip on the screen is nearing its climax—literally. The guy, whose name escapes me, begins to jack like a madman to Charlie’s big, bunched up beauties. They do look good, those huge honeys and when the guy sprays his load, Dutch remarks, “Wow, there you go Dean. Guess you and I are going to get to do that a few times today, huh? You ready for Sally’s jugs.”

I too am wearing a pair of baggy gym trunks and I instinctively grab my crotch and stare at Charlie’s cum glazed boobs, “Oh yes. Fuck yes.”

Another addition to our ritual is that Dutch or Sally places bulky, fluffy bath towels throughout the apartment, even on the balcony. “It’s for all you boys’ cum splatter, Dean,” Sally had explained early on.

When Sally arrives, there is a palpable electric charge in the air. She is dressed for the office and frankly looks a little like a MILF porn star playing secretary. Both Dutch and I stare at her; both of our cocks are tent poling in our shorts.

Sally laughs, “Look at you two—guess I know what’s on your mind.” She gives her husband a deep, lingering kiss—they roam their hands freely over each other. Then, Sally briefly buffs me on the cheek with her lips, but smacks my ass and then grabs my crotch, “Hmnn, you have something in there to help me unwind Dean?”

Dutch and I grab a couple of beers. Sally pours herself a tall Scotch and adds a splash of soda. She takes off her jacket and pulls her blouse free of the skirt and sits down across from where Dutch and I sit at opposite ends of the couch.

Sally and Dutch chat about their respective days—where his crew and he are on their project, she gossips about her office mates. Just another day at the office, on the job, a couple getting caught up over drinks after work; but only for a time, remember this is one crazy couple!

Dutch stands briefly to lay out a towel, drops his shorts and his cock springs free. I follow suit and we both sit back down.

Sally emits that lusty chuckle of hers, leans back and spreads her legs, although her skirt still covers her wonderland. Sally unfastens four or five buttons of her blouse and sips her drink, watching us jacking off to her.

Early on, it had become clear to me that part of this couple’s sexual dynamic is that Sally really gets sexed up with two men lusting after her in the same room, at the same time.

“Damn, boys, look at you working on your dicks. Look at you jerking off to me. Well, I’m glad I have the two of you here, because I am in the mood to get fucked all day.”

She undoes two more buttons of her blouse, slides her skirt up some more, “Dutch honey, I think Dean wants to fuck your wife.”

“Do you Dean? Do you want to fuck my wife?” Dutch glances my way. The camera lays dormant at his side and he takes a big gulp of beer and jacks vigorously on his cock, “You gonna fuck my wife, Dean?”

“Oh yes,” I am leering right at the shadowy cave made by her parted thighs and slightly hiked up skirt, “Yes, I’m going to fuck your wife until her eyes roll up in her head, Dutch.”

Sally slips off her blouse, the white bra bunching up her titties into nice, sweetly rounded orbs. “Dutch, honey, Dean wants to stick his cock up into your wife’s pussy.”

“Yeah, Dean? You want to stick that cock up into my wife’s pussy?”

“Oh fuck yeah. I’m gonna take my pleasure with that pussy, but first I’m gonna fuck that mouth and then those titties—I’m gonna get me lots of titty. Then Dutch old boy I’m gonna pump that pussy and fucking wear it out!”

Sally leans forward and sips her Scotch, “Let’s see who gets to go first. Eenie meenie, miny moe, my pussy tells me to pick this cock right over here.”

“Oh yeah,” I gasp, “Fuck yeah.” She’s played that game a few times before. Sometimes Dutch and I flip a coin to see her goes first. Once, we drew from a deck of cards.

“Oh Dutch, honey, looks like Dean gets to fuck me first today. Once more, looks like you are going to have to watch your wife getting that big dick of Dean’s put to her before you get any pussy at all.”

Sally leans over and rummages around in her large handbag, pulls out a pair of panties. “I pulled these off as soon as I got in the car when I left work. Good thing I can drive with one hand. My pussy is so ready for cock. Here, Dutch,” and she tosses the panties to him, “These will have to hold you until Dean gets finished fucking me—gets finished with his first go.”

I have to let go of my cock, lest I lose control. So does Dutch.

For the next few minutes Sally taunts us—regales us--with one of her fantastic striptease acts. And even though at this point I’ve watched her peel off her clothes at least a dozen times over the past several weeks, and countless times as I’ve jacked off to the vids Dutch shares, I never tire of this MILF slowly exposing her ass, letting her titties plop free, showing off her pussy.

Then, there she is—naked. I sit here, jacking slowly, savoring the scene. I notice that Dutch has turned on the video camera that is resting on the stand in the corner. He peers through the view finder and gives me a “thumbs up.” I leer at his wife’s tits, her pussy, at her thighs.

I need to fuck. Hell, I need that pussy so badly, my need is so intense, my lust so overpowering I feel as if my cock could break through a fucking brick wall to get to that woman’s delights.

“Oh, damn it Sally. Oh fuck I need that pussy. Oh fuck, I need it, gotta have it. Bring it here. Oh please bring it here.”

But instead of waiting, I stand up and move toward that pleasure giving body. She steps toward me as well—her eyes on my cock. And as I reach Sally, my hands drift over all her lovely delights, I grope and grab. I fondle and feel it all. I go for her ass, her pussy—yes, I finger up into her rich, humid wetness—I jiggle her jugs and bobble them about. I kiss her neck and shoulders, I give little love bites to her titties, suck on her nipples. All the time, I moan like the lust driven fool that I am. Yes, I am a man governed right now by his cock. The proverbial team of wild horses could not keep from this woman’s pussy.

For her part, Sally’s hands are roaming, fondling and feeling me—patting and griping my ass cheeks, cupping my balls, stroking my cock, kissing my shoulders, “Oh baby, oh Dean, look at you all worked up, oh fuck this is going to be a good one baby.”

I catch a glimpse of Dutch who has climbed up on the couch behind me and to the right. He is sitting on the back of the couch and with one hand he is manning the video camera. With the other Dutch is stroking his cock.

The thought that here I am about to put it to his wife once more—in front of him—urges me on and I growl out my lust into her titties. I guide Sally back to the chair where she had been sitting. Press her down and then I kneel down.

“Oh baby, oh Dean, are you going to work on my pussy, baby? Oh yes, I love it when you lick me. Oh yes, tongue fuck me.”

For the next several minutes I roam my face, and tongue, all over her wonderland. I kiss and lick Sally’s thighs, the left one down to her pussy where I go labia licking, clit tickling wild—at which point she begins to writhe, moan and groan. “Oh that’s soooo fucking good. Oh Dutch, look at what this man’s doing to your wife’s pussy. Oh don’t fucking stop, Dean, just fucking live down there. Oh shit. Oh fuck.”

Then, I move up her right thigh—she whimpers and begs me to return to her pussy. I move back down and lap and lick, tongue flick her. I follow this rhythm, over and over until my face and her thighs and pussy glisten.

I have now slipped into what the three of us call my zone. I am practically oblivious to the movements of Dutch with his camera as he continually shifts from my left side to the right, then to behind his wife to get a down front view of my pussy licking, then angling it directly over my right, then left, shoulder. I sense that from time to time Dutch stands still, steadying the camera so he can use a free hand to jack on his own cock. I know he is urging me on but most of his entreaties and directions are lost to me—I want to get this woman so sexed up and ready for my dick, my dick, and my dick alone. I do so want to fuck her until she goes fucking cross-eyed; I want to ruin her for Dutch or any future fuck pal. I want to be the best fuck she has—or ever will have.

When Sally suddenly grabs the hair on either side of my head, pushes me into her, when I feel her thighs press against me, I bear down and rake over her clit. Sally bucks a half a dozen times, barks out with lusty, unabashed delight and abandon, squeals in a primitive keen. She goes a little limp.

I rise up and look over the terrain of her body, proud of my work.

“Damn, Dean. Fuck you made my pussy sing! Damn baby.”

I stand, jerk on my dick at the scene before me. Then, I take her by the wrists and pull her upright, trading places with her, I sit down. I move to the edge of the seat. I bury my face into her tummy, roam my hands over her ass—savoring the feel of this woman, this vibrant, sexual being, a woman living the lusty life, a woman with an almost perpetually primed pussy. I reach up and pull her down slightly so I suck on each tit, the left one, the right one, the left one and so on. She moves her shoulders around to massage my face with her huge honeys. She coos at me, urges me on, “Oh yes, take what you need baby. I’m giving it all to you.”

I continue to take my proprietary hand search of her body, probing, touching, squeezing, gripping and patting, fingering.

Then, I moan out, “Get down there you hot little bitch and suck my dick. Get down there you big tittied beauty and make me happy down there.”

And she does.

I hear Dutch gasp and notice again he has the hand held camera poised and aimed at the action, “Get you some titty there, Dean while you’re at it.”

I glance at him and leer, “Oh Dutch, you know me better than that—hell with these big pretties so close to my cock, I’m going to get in a lot of titty.”

“Oh yes,” Sally says, huskily, “Look at you Dean, look at you all horned out and hard,” Sally kneels down and moves her hands up and down my thighs, cups my balls, “What a fine cock you have, baby. Such a hard working cock, oh Dutch, look at our friend, he really is right and ready for some fucking.”

“Take care of him, baby,”

Then, Sally proceeds to give me a sloppy, slurping, saliva soaked cock sucking.

I sit there, a man possessed by lust, owned by this incredible sex-mad woman. My universe is at the intersection of her mouth and my dick.

I hear Dutch breath out, “Hot fucking damn, you look so hot down there baby. Suck that man’s cock, baby. That’s it, give it some licks. Don’t forget those balls.”

I rub lovingly over her shoulders, cherishing the shaft licking, ball kissing treatment Sally is giving me. I reach down for a touch or two of titty. Her nipples are pebble hard.

“Oh fuck, Dutch,” I moan out, “What a sweet, oh, damn what a fine fuck you have here. Damn she’s special.”

During this time, Dutch has made a 360 turn around us, catching the action from every angle, zooming in and zooming out—returning to his original place. Sally’s hands roam over me, making a delicious, delicate dance of fingers over my thighs, balls and up over my abdomen. I am in a state of sensory overload.

“Titties, oh Sweetness, I need some titty. Please baby, got to have those titties up here.”

Sally rises up and begins to rake her huge honeys over my lap, dabbing them up and down, gently, softly brushing them over my dick. It is one of those wonderful, delightful tit baths that boob men like me dream about.

Then, Sally takes those titties and straddles my dick with them—moving up and down. I watch the action as those lovelies sweep over me—I take over and cup those tits, adjusting the pressure. Then, Dutch hands her a small bottle of baby oil, “Here Sal, oil up those honeys, shine ‘em up for Dean.”

There is momentary pause while Sally dribbles the oil onto her titties and my cock. Then, she gets back to providing a fabulous titty fuck. With the reduced friction, the slicked up mounds, the sensation along my shaft is even more pleasing, and I lay my head back. I close my eyes and simply surrender to the service Sally is giving me. Time is suspended. I simply can’t believe Dutch shares this woman, but he truly does seem to enjoy watching his wife receiving and giving pleasure to another man. And as I’ve mentioned the cuckold fetish is beyond my reasoning, outside my understanding, but right now I don’t give a fuck—I’m simply glad I am the man they’ve chosen.

And I am sure anyone viewing the video clip, whether from the angle of the camera on the stand, or from the close ups from the one in Dutch’s hand I am the epitome of a tit man being pleasured by a big tittied woman. Every so often, I take those titties in my hands and hump them hard—the pap-pap-pap sound, Sally’s grunts, my grunts, Dutch’s occasional utterance of “Fuck, hot damn, get after them there titties, Dean,” are the only sounds. Then, I lie back again and let Sally service me.

Just when I am right at the brink, on the edge of blasting out a load, I pull free. Sally knows me fairly well by now, the rhythms of my body. I caress her head in my hands. I stare slack jawed into her eyes as I struggle to regain control. She smiles sweetly, she knows. Yes, Sally knows—she is a dream girl. She knows how desirable she is—two men, with swollen, erect cocks, lusting after her, needing her—two men with cum filled balls, desperate to empty them onto her, at her, inside her. Right now, this woman is sex personified.

“Fuck I need that pussy. Oh I need to fuck that pussy of yours.”

Sally stands up—fingering into herself, “Is this what you want Dean?” All I can do is stare at that pussy, that pussy oh that pussy. She climbs up on the chair where I am sitting, facing me. Her titties wobble around nicely and nuzzle into them. I grab her ass.

Sally reaches down and lifts up my cock, aiming it at her pussy lips and then slides down my shaft. So wet, slick, sweet-feeling that pussy hugs my dick and we both gasp. Sally falls forward, and tells me, “Oh Dean I love having your cock up in me,” then to her husband, “Dutch, look where this man’s cock is.”

“Oh yes, baby, that cock feel good?” Dean, does that pussy feel good?”

But Sally and I are too busy fucking, she begins to ride my dick in a wonderful rhythm that moves from slow, lush gyrations, rolling her ass, rubbing her clit against me—her moaning, groaning—then pickup up the pace until she is riding me in a gallop, her barking and yelping and then slowing down to repeat the cycle all over.

For my part, I let her do the work while I kiss her titties, suckle on her nipples, rub my face into and savor their softness—with my hands I make that ass mine. On occasion, she falls forward, with her mouth close to my ear, “Oh shit, that’s such good dick, Dean. Such good fucking! Damn, you know how to take of a woman.”

For the next several minutes, it’s just Sally and me—fucking, grunting, groaning and moaning. Then, this multi-orgasmic little sexpot begins to hiss, and her ass goes wild over me, Sally grinds her clit against me and she climaxes with an a****listic, feral growl. She goes cock fucking wild.

When she falls forward, catching her breath, emitting a husky laugh at her own lusty abandon, she bites my ear. Dutch, with his camera, his cock hard and erect, says, “Fuck, hot damn Sally.”

For my part, I am amazed I haven’t shot out my load yet. I nudge Sally off of me. She reaches down and gently strokes my cock a time or two, “Your turn baby, your turn to let loose that fucking load of cum.”

I stand up and step back to retrieve my beer and take sip, buying some time, regaining control.

“Get up on that fucking couch. Aim that ass at me. I need that pussy and I need it fucking now!”

I take another swig of beer and, after having backed down from the urge to cum, I give my cock a few strokes, “Dutch old buddy, look at that gorgeous bitch-ass, there. Look at fucking piece.”

Dutch also jerks to the sight of Sally’s ass. She waves it at me, “Come on Dean, honey. Come and get it. Come and get what you need, honey.”

Dutch asks, “So Dean, you gonna get yourself a little more of my wife’s pussy?” He lifts up his camera.

I set down the beer bottle and angle my way behind Sally. Yes, I move toward those ass cheeks, leering at that pleasure place, my cock waddling gently like a compass needle aimed at the true north of those lush pussy lips, “No Dutch. I’m gonna get a lot of your wife’s pussy.”

I stand behind Sally, looking down on all that loveliness. Indulge me this interlude. She stands at 5’2” and her hair is shorn close, cropped close in a no-nonsense, low maintenance cut. Sally is the type of woman whom one might see in the aisle of a grocery store, or at a PTA meeting or at a tame cocktail party and think—what a cute woman, what a sweet looking little thing, especially if she is wearing a tight top, hip hugging pants. But get her naked, tweak her pussy, get her horny, and Sally is a dream woman. Yes, Sally is a dream fuck; as long as a man she is attracted to can get his dick up, she’s there for it.

I swing back and forth at my hip level and bat her ass back and forth with my cock—for a brief moment or two the only sound in the room is the snick, snick, snick of my dick whacking her ass. Dutch, in almost a whisper says, “Fuck.”

With both hands I rub over Sally’s rich ass, reach around and grab and grope over her titties.
For a brief moment I think that if this woman were mine I would never share her—but hell, she would be the best fucked woman ever! I think as I pat her ass that I would kiss--I would touch, fondle and feel and over time I would cum on each and every inch of her. I would make that woman mine! I would keep her naked and fuck her blind over and over and over.

She purrs and pushes her ass against me, “Oh baby, oh Dean, such sweet torture. You know I need that cock again, oh don’t make me beg, put it up in me. Just fuck the shit out of me baby.”

Sally turns her head toward Dutch who now is sitting in one the chairs, camera on the floor. He is jacking away at us. “Dutch,” she barks, “Dutch, baby, don’t you dare spill that seed. Don’t you shoot that load. That spunk belongs to me. You wait your turn you bad boy.”

“Oh yes, baby, oh yes,” he moans. Dutch is now in his zone.

This apartment is now a fuck room—two men and a woman, all three of us so damned sexed up, here to fuck and fuck and fuck some more.

“Okay Dean,” Sally’s voice is a husky whisper, “Get after it, you pussy fucker. Show my man how it’s done. Teach him how to fuck a woman.”

Now, this isn’t the first time Sally has uttered such words—but they never fail to have the same affect.

Again, I take my cock in hand and smack each cheek a time or two—solid smacks. Yes, I tell myself—so consumed with my need--I oh so want to give this woman a fuck to end all fucks.

As any man knows, slipping inside a woman’s pussy is one of life’s true delights. And as I find my way into Sally’s slip once more we both gasp.

That pussy is so wet from my licking and our immediately preceding fuck. It is so warm. It is so welcoming. It is so fucking wonderful. I want to live there, inside that pussy. I bury my cock, go deep and pause; afraid I might just shoot off my load right this minute.

“Dutch, baby,” Sally calls out to her husband, “Are you watching this man fuck your wife? Are you? You hold that fucking load. It’s mine.”

“Oh honey,” he gasps, Dutch sitting back, his beer in one hand, his cock in the other, “You look so good getting fucked. Do her Dean, do her good. Fuck my wife’s bitch ass!”

Sally’s ass does look so fine, her hips feel so good in my hands and this pussy, hot fucking damn it’s good, so fucking good.

I commence to bang away at her bottom, I ram that rump and as I lean slightly to the right, I see her titties wobbling around and around and around.

I glance over at Dutch, where he sits mesmerized, watching his wife getting fucked and I think—hot fucking damn this man’s wife is such a fine, oh so fine, piece of ass.

“Oh fuck!” Sally cries out, “Oh shit! You’re a fucking wild man back there.”

And I am. I am desperate to cum, desperate to pump it out.

Suddenly, Dutch is at my side, camera in hand, “Dean, you gonna feed her fairies?”

This has become our euphemism for me pulling out and creaming on Sally’s ass.

“Oh fuck, Dutch. I don’t know, it feels so fucking good in your wife’s pussy.”

But Sally moans out, “Oh yes, Dean. Cum on my ass—Dutch, get it with the camera, I want to watch it—I want to see Dean’s spunk all over my ass.”

Right before that critical moment, after mustering a tremendous amount willpower I do indeed pull out, “Fuck, Dutch, look at that ass!!! Oh, Sally what a view. What a view! Oh such a damn good looking ass! Oh Dutch, your wife is such a good fuck!”

And then, I pop it out, I go fucking cum creaming crazy.

Three thick threads thrust out of my cock—the first one lands on the small of Sally’s back. Then the second and third flop onto her right and left ass cheeks respectively. Then, I deposit, spew and spray a veritable archipelago of cum over her beautiful bottom.

Sally says, “Oh shit, Dean, I feel it baby.”

Dutch say, “Hot fucking damn, dude. When is the last time you jacked off? Shit, that’s a load.”

Me? All I can do is grunt and groan. And as I gaze over the man mess I just made, even I am a bit surprised. Damn.

I go into the hall bathroom to clean up, and Sally goes into the bath adjacent to the back bedroom. I hear her exclaim, evidently looking at her ass in the mirror, “Hot damn Dean! You got off just in time baby. I think your balls must have been about to burst.” Then, I hear her close that bedroom door.

I clean up. Then, I walk out and go into the kitchen area where Dutch has broken out a bottle of Maker’s Mark. He hands me a small tumbler and we clink glasses.

“Damn Dutch,” I sip, “That is one incredible woman. One of the best fucks I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah,” he sips, looking into his own glass, a rakish grin on his face, “Too much woman for one man. That’s why we do this.”

I notice his cock is fully erect.

Sally comes into the kitchen, pours a little Scotch into a glass and adds an ice cube or two. She turns to Dutch, “Let me see it baby. Let me see Dean blast off.”

Dutch retrieves the camera and Sally leans in close to the viewer. Dutch expertly finds the scene and as I lean against the counter, drinking my bourbon I can hear the action—the pap-pap-pap of my body clapping against hers, our grunts and groans and then—well, then I do indeed blast off onto her ass.

Sally exclaims, “Dean, honey. Damn! We did good baby. Oh shit, look at my tattoo.”

For a few minutes, we stand in the kitchen area, all three of us naked, drinking and talking. But Dutch begins to roam his hands over his wife’s body, patting Sally’s ass, stroking up along her shoulders and arms. It is clear he wants—needs—to fuck that woman. His cock is pronged out and ready.

Finally, Dutch buries his face in Sally’s tits, and he grabs her ass. He turns Sally around and gently pushes her toward the living room. “Oh baby, damn I need that pussy.”

“Oh yes, Dutch, honey. You’ve been such a good boy—let’s get you taken care of.”

At first, I sit down in a chair in the corner, using the camera, jacking on my dick, sipping my bourbon. They grunt and groan. Dutch licks her good. The missionary position ensues—with her lying out on the couch. She moans and groans and begs him to keep humping. He straddles Sally at the waist—I make a mental not—damn. I forgot to do that. Dutch titty fucks her pretty well—Dutch moans and groans as he hooter humps his wife. They get it on—that woman quite simply likes to fuck.

Dutch is right—she is way too much woman for one man. As I sit here jacking to the scene of her, now, sucking her man’s dick—I am glad I am the beneficiary of her spillover need.

They bang about for quite a while. Dutch does his woman from all the basic positions. He bends over the back of a chair and pumps her rump—it is here, while holding the camera in one hand and my cock in the other that my cock, also, gets all horned out and ready. He sits down on the couch and she rides cowgirl and then reverse cowgirl. But it is when he is doing Sally missionary style for the second or third time that I really get excited. They have a lush carpet in the living room, with an equally plush rug on top of it. It is here that Dutch lays out his woman for the finale of this round of fucking. He fucking gets after it! He drills Sally and I have to wonder if there is enough cushion beneath her—damn, Dutch nails that woman. He is really worked up.

Dutch is alternating between whimpering in his pleasure, and growling out, “My fucking pussy, this is my pussy! My fucking pussy—you’re my fuck bitch! My fuck bitch! Dean may borrow your pussy, but I fucking own it!”

Sally replies intermittently, “Oh yes, baby, you know this is for you. Anytime you’re ready for me—I’m yours to fuck.”

Well, when Dutch finally reaches climax—since he obviously gets all wound up and horny watching his wife getting fucked—he really gets off. He growls out his pleasure—pounds that pussy. Sally’s legs are up in the air, and she is gripping his ass, while he humps like crazy, driving in and out of that sweet pussy and she grunts lustily with each thrust of Dutch’s cock.

For my part, I had been videoing the two of them from various angles, pausing to jack on my dick—a couple of times sitting down to sip some bourbon and watch. But as Dutch falls flat onto his woman, spent and gasping, Sally patting his ass, congratulating her man on another good climax, I sit there jerking up and down on my dick—thinking about my next go at her.

Finally, Sally and Dutch pull free of each other and retreat into the bathrooms to clean up.

We once more go into the kitchen area, drinking and talking and eventually end up on the balcony. Dutch’s dick dangles, but mine is pronged out, hard and ready for more female attention.

As it is a Tuesday afternoon, Dutch has to take a call—one of his crews is rolling up and the lead man wants to clear a supply order for tomorrow.

Me? I sit here, jacking on my dick and reach over and run my hand up Sally’s thigh. She is sitting in a lawn chair between Dutch and me. She has donned a diaphanous robe that barely covers her ass. It is cinched loosely at the waist. Her titties are only half covered. Her shaved pussy is slightly exposed. Sally looks like sex personified.

I need some more of Dutch’s wife. I need some more touch of titty, touch of tongue. I need to feel her mouth close over my cock; I need to fuck that pussy again.

I stand up and lean against the railing where I can look down on the lovely terrain of Sally’s body. As we talk, I sip my drink and fondle my cock—giving it some tugs. Sally parts her legs slightly, and begins to roam a finger over her clit.

Finally, I can’t stand it—I reach down and take her by the hand. Sally stands, kisses me and as she is still holding onto her drink, she uses a free hand to cup my balls, “Let’s go into the bedroom, Dean. I want you to give a good long, slow fuck.”

I stare at the little curtain-like hem of her sheer robe as Sally’s ass cheeks move from left to right, leading me down the hallway to the back bedroom. My rock hard cock wobbles about slightly.

I take another sip of bourbon and think to myself, “Yes, going to get myself some more pussy.”

My lust is now like a low grade fever. Sally steps over to the camera on a stand in the corner. She turns it on and peers into the view screen—making sure the bed is fully visible.

Sally sets down her drink and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “Come here baby.”

I stand before her as she reaches for me, fondles and feels my balls, my thighs, and takes my cock in hand and then—sweetly—into her mouth. As I mentioned at the outset, she really is very, very gifted at giving a man pleasure through the generous use of her tongue, perfect pressure with her lips and an intuitive grasp of a man’s pace. I stand there, looking down on the sight of my cock being sucked by this truly sexual being—this dream woman.

She brings me to the edge two or three times—licking my balls, my shaft, hand jobbing me, lip hugging me.

Finally, I pull free and set down my drink. I lay her back onto the bed, position her lengthwise and commence to lick my way from her thighs up to her pussy. I take my time. Sally, after all, wanted a long, languid fuck.

Sally lays there, arms and legs spread—limp, quietly moaning and groaning, “Oh fuck yes, baby. Oh don’t ever stop. I want you down there forever. Oh shit, that feels so fucking good. Oh, oh, oh! That’s so sweet.” I have my hands beneath her, gripping a rich ass cheek in each hand. I nudge her clitoris, I lap over her lips, I tongue fuck her. I am so focused on pleasing this woman—this woman who seems to be able to fuck and fuck and fuck and then fuck some more.

Twice, I sense Dutch coming into the room. There are times when we each can tell when it’s time to be quiet and let the fucking proceed. This is one of those times.

Sally’s pussy is so wet. She goes very still, very calm, and for a brief moment I am afraid she has actually fallen asl**p. The, Sally raises up her knees and moves her hands over my head, “Oh Dean, fuck me. Please fuck me.”

I crawl off the bed. I stand at the end, jacking to the scene before me—this wanton woman, legs lewdly spread out, her pussy lips glistening, her titties graded to her sides. Yes, I jerk on my cock to the scene of this fuckable, oh so fuckable woman.

I grab her by the ankles and pull her toward me. Sally giggles and then—while staring at my cock, gasps out, “Oh yes, take me. Use that gorgeous cock.”

I gently roll Dutch’s wife over and lift her up onto her knees. Sally rests on her elbows and I pause to savor the sight of that heart shaped ass. I rub over her cheeks. I tap them with my cock.
Then, I take aim at her inviting pussy. I tease her lips with the tip of my dick and Sally waves her ass around, she pushes back toward me, but for the moment, I refuse to slip inside her.

“Oh fuck, baby, oh Dean, don’t make me beg baby. Put it to me! Oh I need that dick up inside me.”

And then, I enjoy that feeling I never tire of—sliding my cock inside a warm, wet, welcoming pussy. I go deep, push all the way in and pause. “Oh fuck,” Sally says. “Oh yes,” I say.

Then, I begin to slowly, rhythmically fuck Sally. I sigh as that electric wash of pure pleasure surges over me, through me. I groan at that feeling of wellbeing that comes with accessing a willing woman’s body—everything else recedes, falls away. I am fucking a woman; but not just any woman, a big tittied, healthy hipped, ample assed woman. I feel wonderful—her hips in hand, me reaching around every few pumps or so to fondle her titties, tweak her nipples, then back to the lush lunges into her pussy. I grip and knead her ass cheeks in my hands, I pat them, adore them.

The closet door to my right is mirrored, folding panels. I watch myself humping and pumping and Sally looks to the right and says, “Oh baby, you look so good back there doing my pussy.”

“Oh Sweetness, you look wonderful down there—this ass, those titties, wonderful!”

After a time, I pull out—she hisses, “No, Dean, oh honey, come back in.”

I roll her over, we adjust her body, move Sally back up the bed where she rests her head on the pillows. For a while, I lay slightly above her, roaming my hands over Sally’s tits, her hips, fingering into her pussy, kissing her, nibbling on her nipples, gently batting her titties about. Then, I waddle up and straddle her at the waist, and Sally—sweet Sally—she knows. Sally bunches up her fabulous looking breasts and I roam my cock over those lovely mounds. Her nipples are pert, erect and hard. She is the epitome of a woman in heat.

I fuck those tits. Rock back and forth, up and down. They feel so fucking good.

Then, I slide back down her body, tracing my cock along her stomach and abdomen and press back inside her pussy. She is very, very wet. I once more feel that surge of pleasure—that grip of lust.

I lay out on top her, space out completely, savoring that total tactile feel of a woman beneath me. Sally softly runs her hands up and down my back, over my ass, tickling my thighs. And I slowly move up and down, going deep, pausing, pulling back, pausing and then moving back in.

Then—I almost miss her entreaty, so soft is her voice in my ear—“Oh Dean, oh honey, a little faster. Oh yes, a little faster, bear down a bit. Oh fuck yes, that’s it—oh shit, oh shit, make me cum.”

And, I do. Sally grips my ass. Her eyes pinch shut, her face reddens. Sally emits a breathy gasp. Her body tenses, and she bucks up against me three, four, five times.

She lays there for a moment or two. Then, she looks at me levelly and says, “Dean, cum on me. I want to watch you shoot it onto me.”

I pick up the pace of my fucking. I grunt and groan, building it up—right before that critical moment, I pull free. I stand up on my knees and jack off again to the sight of that prone woman who lets me inside her pussy over and over and over. When I achieve my climax, a thread blasts onto her stomach, blobs and globs sprinkle and splatter over her thighs, mons pubis and labia. I jack like a madman.

“Oh damn, baby. Oh yes, pump it all out there.” Sally really does like having a man lust after her.

Finally, spent, I survey the scene. My man mess on the body of another man’s wife; if Dutch likes being the cuckold, I like being the interloper.

After Dutch gets in his fuck, Sally and I are back in the bed. This time she is riding me. She leans close and stage whispers in my ear, “Aren’t you glad you bumped into me that day at the mailboxes?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

Dutch, he has the camera in hand—he is standing off to the side, “How you doing there Dean?”

“Well, Dutch, I have one of your wife’s ass cheeks in one hand, and one of her titties in the other, my cock up in her pussy. Looking up into that pretty face—yep, I’m doing very well thank you very much.”

“Just think, Dean.” Dutch moves around and zooms in on my cock and Sally’s pussy, “If you hadn’t bumped into her that day, you would have never enjoyed that pussy.”

And as Sally grinds away, whimpering as she cums, as I thrust out my load up inside her—I do indeed think, “What a luck day that had been—when I bumped into Sally.”

…..14 months later…..

Here I sit poolside. Sipping a tall gin and tonic—it’s summer and damned hot. The concrete skirt around the pool emits a steady barefoot burning heat. The pool water is without any flutter—a table top smoothness. To my left, the woman I brought, Amanda is on a lounger, positioned on her hands and knees. A man who I just met an hour ago, Taylor, middle aged but with a golfer’s tan, in decent shape, is standing behind her, steadily fucking her. To my right, a little up the way on the lengthwise side of the pool is Dutch. He too is on a lounger, lying on his back and the woman Taylor brought—a stunning redhead named Mitzi—is riding his dick.

As for me, I sit here while Dutch’s contribution to this little fuck party, his wife Sally, who I haven’t seen for over a month, and who I haven’t fucked in over a year, is kneeling down before me—sucking my cock.

As I predicted, the play time at Hallmark Court Apartments did come to an end. We had three more fuck parties. Then, in the course of his remodeling business, Dutch found a really good deal on a house in the suburbs and within a month he and his fun wife had moved out of the apartment.

I, too, moved out. I bought a townhome--the corner unit in a complex of twelve. My sex life changed as well. While I still get with my married friend Helen about once a week, Cassie got engaged and now we only fuck once a month or so. But, I met a couple of other women who have turned into great fuck buddies. One of them, Amanda is a forty-something, slim but stacked blonde. While I know she has a couple of other guys in her trick, I fancy myself as her favorite fuck. She certainly has turned out to be my favorite fuck.

I sit here poolside at Casa Del Sally and Dutch, and Amanda looks great getting fucked from behind. Her big beauties swing to and fro, back and forth and the guy named Taylor really seems to be enjoying her pussy.

And the woman named Mitzi, well I am really looking forward to my turn at her. Great looking saggy titties, fine fleshy ass.

When Sally and Dutch bought their house—Dutch apparently put his talents to good use—they invited me to a housewarming party. The house looked great. It also featured a small, but more than adequate pool in the back.

Dutch smacks Mitzi’s ass and the clap sound carries all the way to where I sit. Good old Dutch is in his zone.

I had attended the housewarming with a lurid anticipation that it might devolve into a fuck party but—alas, everyone kept their clothes on. I even stayed late, hoping against hope. But, in the end, I drove home with a rock hard cock and the image of Sally’s cleavage fueling my lust fevered mind.

As I sit here, I note that Sally hasn’t lost any of her cock sucking skills. She licks my balls, then runs her tongue up the length of my shaft and stuffs my dick in her mouth for several up and down strokes; back the ball licking, shaft licking, cock sucking—a wonderful rhythm.

A month ago, I had ventured out to an office park not far from this subdivision to meet with one of my clients. Afterwards, I had stopped into a restaurant for lunch. I had sat at the bar, eating a huge hamburger and drinking a beer and watching the fine looking little bartender and her titties wobble beneath a satin bouse.

As I am leaving, guess who I bumped into? Yes, Sally. And she was every bit the fabulous sweater girl I’d bumped into that wistful day a year and half ago at Hallmark Court Apartments. We hugged, kissed and then she eyed me levelly.

“Say, Dean, I am so glad we bumped into each other. Dutch and I are having a pool party in a couple weeks and we were just talking about how it would be so nice to have you join.”

She had stepped closer and glanced around, “But the nature of our partying has changed a bit. We are inviting one of our friends—a guy named Taylor. And he is bringing a lady friend. Do you think you could bring a friend too?”

Well, the next night, as I rolled off Amanda after another great fuck, I decided to ask her if she would like to join in some group fun. To my mild surprise she agreed.

So, there she is, Amanda, getting her pussy roundly fucked by Taylor. Her little fuck barks tell me Amanda is cuming or close to it. Taylor pumps her rump and his face is very red. He too must be close. And, in fact, he lets go and growls out his pleasure as he makes Amanda’s ass cheeks quiver and quake as he hammers it home.

Slowly his pace, he pats her ass a time or two and then pulls out, “Hot fucking damn, baby. That is some damned fine pussy.”

“Hmmm, glad you had fun in there, Taylor. That’s nice cock you stuck up in me.”

Then, suddenly, Dutch yelps, “Oh fuck! Don’t stop! Keep moving—oh shit, here it cums baby!”

I glance over to see Dutch bucking up in counter point to Mitzi’s humping. They both gasp loudly and emit feral groans and finally she falls forward and shouts out, “Fuck!”

Then, I’m back to watching Sally’s head bob up and down on my dick. Sweetly, she begins to alternate the sucking with titty fucking. I fondle and feel them as we use her tits to hug my cock, jacking up and down.

“Your turn baby. You want to cum on my boobs Dean? I remember how much you really liked do that.”

Before long, Amanda and Taylor are standing on my left side—they each are sipping their drinks. Dutch and Mitzi, both using towels to clean themselves off are standing on my right. All four are watching the tit on dick action. And the hooter humping feels so good, so fucking good.

Then, I gasp, “Oh fuck, Sally, I’m so close.”
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a copyrighted story entitled "Bumping Into My Neighbor' Wife...over and over and over..." This is in the Dean's Fantasy World Collection.

This story is inspired by a couple who are among my x hamster friends. Videos of their frolikcing and fucking can be found at

http://xhamster.com/user/horneyc1 where one can see why I find them to be sooo much fun to watch...

Well, here is the story...enjoy!

Sally pulls free and stands up on her knees. “Come on baby,” she pulls me up so I’m standing up, jacking to her lovely titty tableau.

“Okay, Dean. Spray me, spew that spunk. Show them how it’s done.”

Amanda adds, “Watch this Mitzi—this man can pump out a mighty load.” She sips her drink/

Amazingly, I glance to my right and there is Dutch, with a fucking video camera.

“Just like old times, buddy,” he says, grinning, “Put it out there, dude.”

And I do. When I shoot my spunk, it flicks and flies—there are some ooohs and ahhhs and then Sally purrs, “Oh baby, yes, just like old times.”

Amanda steps over and pats me on the ass, “Good boy.”

Mitzi says, “Damn!”

Taylor says, “Shit, son—what vitamins you been taking?”

I bend down and kiss Sally—once more, so grateful I bumped into her that day a few weeks ago in that restaurant. As I pick up my drink, I think, “This is going to be a really nice party.”

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1 year ago
Good story. Well thought-out, well written. In addition, I must compliment you about something specifically. You have a keen sense of how to set a scene - the surroundings, the environment, the furniture. In fact if you used more sensory descriptions, like smell, taste & touch, I believe your readers would be turned on even more, if that's even possible.

Thanks for the post - all the effort to make it interesting & compelling is appreciated. Cheers Brother!
2 years ago
2 years ago
Such a turn on hun reading this xx
2 years ago